


Maybe Not the Most Awkward Dinner to Happen in Camelot's Citadel, but it's Definitely Up There

by HopePrevails



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Banter, Canon Era, Crack, Dinner, Domestic Fluff, Embarrassment, Emotionally Constipated Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Humor, Married Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin and gwen are BFFs, Oneshot, Post-Season/Series 04, Protective Gwen (Merlin), Queen Gwen (Merlin), Reveal, gwen isnt having merlin think he's not attractive, not the reveal you're thinking though, or at least I try, past merlin/gwen - Freeform, slight merthur if you squint ig, uh oh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27767392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopePrevails/pseuds/HopePrevails
Summary: When an argument about whether Merlin is remotely attractive or not breaks out over dinner, Queen Guinevere accidentally drops into the conversation that she had a crush on him when he first arrived in Camelot. Arthur takes it... like Arthur.--x--“Don’t look so surprised, Merlin.” Gwen said kindly. Perhaps she was the psychic. “You’re sweet and gentle, charismatic-”Arthur snorted.“- and I’m not going to let you walk out of those doors thinking you don’t look the part, either. Remember, even when you first came to Camelot, I-” She stopped herself, snapping her lips tightly shut.
Relationships: Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 132





	Maybe Not the Most Awkward Dinner to Happen in Camelot's Citadel, but it's Definitely Up There

**Author's Note:**

> Why hello there! I genuinely didn't think that a crack fic would be how I'd return to AO3, but here we are.  
> I am uuuuhhhh fully aware that my poor Doctor Who fic, Time for a Rewind, has been sat there gathering dust since March (oopsie), but it's not abandoned, I swear! I will return to it someday! I've made myself a rule which is: don't post a fic unless you have it completely finished. Bc I'm terrible at finishing things.  
> Luckily, this is just a oneshot. I may have a longer Merlin fic on the way, though, so stay tuned!

Merlin was late.

Perhaps that wasn’t important information - his poor timekeeping wasn’t anything new, of course.

When he pushed through the King’s chamber doors with platters balanced on each palm and goblets rattling their way to near-oblivion, he’d been expecting the usual. Raised voices, half-arsed jibes. By now, he was almost fond of it.

What greeted him, then, wasn’t any surprise.

“Merlin! So nice of you to join us.” Not shouting, no, but it was Arthur’s favourite ‘I would fire you in an instant if you weren’t my friend’ tone, complete with a wonderfully fake smile. He’d perfected it over the years.

The King was already sat opposite his Queen at the dining table. Despite the long day full of tough meetings and pompous Lords battering each other with empty words, Merlin was delighted to see that Gwen looked a right sight better than Arthur. A genuine smile crinkled her eyes as Merlin set the food before her, one which was easy to return.

“Thank you, Merlin.” She said pointedly, flicking her eyes between him and her husband. “Don’t mind him, you know how he gets when he’s hungry.” For a moment, he thought he could hold the laugh, he really did, but Gwen’s was the most infectious in the kingdom, and it shattered his loose grip on professionalism in a heartbeat.

“Uh-” Arthur squeaked through their laughter, “I didn’t say anything!”

Merlin tipped his head and moved to set the King’s dinner out, fumbling with the cutlery as he attempted valiantly to control his breaths. “You didn’t need to, sire. Though for the record, I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Oh, well at least you remembered to apologise.”

“I do try.”

Um.

“At least a quarter of the time.”

With a long breath and raised eyebrows, Arthur took up his cutlery. Merlin hopped for the wine jug, praying to all the gods above that neither monarch had seen it - what was sure to be a swollen red welt on his forehead by now. He’d been lucky he hadn’t cut his hair yet and his fringe was just long enough to hide it.

In sure hands, he picked up the jug and turned back to the table, where a lighthearted discussion was already well underway. And, much to his misfortune, it appeared that he was assumed a part of it.

“-what do you think, Merlin?”

“Oh.” He attempted to mask his confusion with a smile, leaning over to fill Gwen’s goblet as she looked up at him with those glinting eyes. Mischievous, he noted. “Y-es?”

“Great!” Arthur said, suspiciously jovial. “Then we’ll have you in the stocks by dawn tomorrow to put it to the test.”

“Oh, Arthur!” Gwen chided, but not without the edge of a laugh in her voice. “Don’t tease him. There’s obviously something on your mind, isn’t there, Merlin?”

Still recovering from the brief pang of fear, the phantom smell of rotting tomatoes and the subsequent rush of relief, Merlin let out a nervous laugh and went to fill Arthur’s cup, fixing him with a sharp glare as he did so. Arthur did nothing but flash a bright smile.

“Nothing interesting.” Merlin provided.

“Well, that’s not surprising.”

“Are you sure it’s nothing to do with that bruise on your forehead?”

Merlin scrunched his nose. He should’ve known better than to think he’d fooled Gwen. Well, at least it was only a bruise.

With a self-deprecating sigh, Merlin straightened up and offered Gwen a growing grin. “You know me. Ran into a wall.”

“Oh, Merlin.”

Arthur groaned as he swallowed his mouthful. “I genuinely cannot tell whether you’re the most predictable person in the five kingdoms, or if your tendency to run into everything you see would take enemies by such surprise it would hold its own as a battle tactic.”

“If I’d _seen_ the wall, I wouldn’t have run into it, would I?”

“That remains to be tested.”

“Uh-”

“As entertaining as this is, I feel as if I must intervene now before this turns into a food fight.” Gwen interjected, pursing her lips to barely push down an amused smile.

“Oh, don’t worry, Gwen.” Merlin finally took a step away from the King. “I scrubbed the floor this morning, you wouldn’t catch me throwing food if my life depended on it. Arthur, no.”

Arthur paused with his loaded fork suspended between him and the dish. “Believe it or not, Merlin, the food needs to leave the plate before I can eat it. It’s not going on the floor.”

“Well- good.”

For a few more, slightly awkward moments, the King squinted at Merlin, seemingly attempting to scrutinise the nature of the bump forming on his forehead.

“Good news is-” Arthur shoved the fork in his mouth and Merlin let out a breath through his nose. “the bruise can’t exactly make you anymore ugly.”

The servant rolled his eyes. But he was used to this, and he knew his king didn’t mean it really.

Gwen, however, seemed to be more offended than he was.

“Come now, Arthur.” She said with the most seriousness she’d had in her tone since the council meeting earlier that day. “I’m sure many would disagree with that sentiment.” And when she looked at Merlin, her eyes were full of a shine close to pride. Strangely, that made something in his chest squirm.

There was a pause. Before, with a forced disbelief, Arthur said “Really?”

“Yes, really. I know for a fact that at least half the kitchens-”

An undignified noise left Merlin’s throat, something very close to an ‘eep’ most commonly heard from tiny birds.

“I believe he has somewhat of a fan club forming.”

“… _Merlin?”_

Merlin didn’t trust himself to speak. So, with a steadily burning face, he resigned himself to listening as Gwen dropped information which he should have surely figured out for himself by now. Of course, he was aware that he’d gained a bit of muscle over the past few years from lugging King Prat’s armour here there and everywhere, but he’d never thought for a million lifetimes that he’d gather… a following. Gwen had to be teasing, surely?

“Don’t look so surprised, Merlin.” Gwen said kindly. Perhaps _she_ was the psychic. “You’re sweet and gentle, charismatic-”

Arthur snorted.

“- and I’m not going to let you walk out of those doors thinking you don’t look the part, either. Remember, even when you first came to Camelot, I-” She stopped herself, snapping her lips tightly shut.

This was it. This was the moment where the Earth would open up and swallow Merlin whole, he knew it. He hoped it. With a huge gulp, Merlin took to looking directly at his feet, pitcher clutched in shaking hands. Not that he didn’t appreciate the comments, of course. In fact, he thought that might be the first time anyone but his mother had offered him anything near compliments such as those.

The problem was…

“You… what?” Arthur’s voice dripped with a tad sprinkle of annoyance and a whole boat load of confusion, topped off with the remainder of his mirth. “Guinevere?”

“I nothing.” Gwen peeped and returned to her food.

The roll of the King’s eyes was fond. “Guinevere. You can tell me.”

“No, she can’t.” Merlin blurted. He didn’t want to guess how deep the red of his face was now, so busied his eyes with flicking up to Gwen and off to Arthur. He hadn’t felt this sheepish in a very long time.

“Hah.” Arthur huffed a gentle, clear laugh, and set down his knife and fork, leaning back in his creaking chair to regard his friends with poorly disguised intrigue. The silence was awful.

“This is lovely food, Merlin. Do tell the Cook I’m impressed.”

“Of course, my lady.”

“Wonderful wine, too.”

“I’ll make sure to tell her that.”

“That’s very nice of you, Merlin, thank you.”

The exchange was pathetically rushed, and did absolutely nothing to break the tension.

Then… the pin dropped.

“No.” Arthur said.

Gwen and Merlin exchanged a look.

The King’s jaw plummeted. He raised a finger to point between them, eyes wide and accusing. “You’re- you’re not telling me…”

“Absolutely not, sire, I have no clue what you’re implying, sire - are you finished with your stew?”

“The bowl’s still half-full, Merlin!”

“Well-” Merlin huffed. “Perhaps if you’d eat faster-”

“You did not! You- and- and you!” The King spluttered. Amazingly, Merlin couldn’t tell whether Arthur was on the edge of hysterical laughter or tears.

Merlin looked back at Gwen, whose face was flat with an extremely awkward excuse for a smile. She set her own cutlery down and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin, taking the pause to recover herself.

Finally, “If you must know, Arthur, it was a teenage crush in the first year of knowing him, nothing more. We’re best of friends now, that cannot be contended, but lovers is certainly something I could never see.”

Merlin’s shoulders sagged as his face exploded into a stupidly big grin. “Aw, Gwen! You had a crush on me!”

The Queen blinked profusely, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing, and giggled. “Merlin, what part of me kissing you told you otherwise?”

“YOU KISSED?!”

“Fantastic, Gwen, why don’t you just go ahead and swing that axe over there at my neck?”

And a shouting match commenced.   
Despite the situation - Arthur seeming like he would topple his stew over Merlin’s head at any moment - the Queen remained relatively collected, taking time to raise her eyebrows at the wobbling reflections in her own bowl before clearing her throat with far more dignity than the King and his servant were currently losing like sand through open fingers.

When she looked up, Arthur had his fork raised at Merlin as if it were something much more deadly than a dining utensil. Merlin, on the other hand, was still rose red and for a moment it would have been easy to mistake him for the boy who stumbled into Camelot eight years prior. Gwen had to suppress another giggle.

“You two!” She said with as much authority as she could muster, and they both paused so quickly she might as well have cast a spell on them. “Thank you. Now, Arthur. If you would take a deep breath and put the fork down, I would be most grateful.”

A second, then another, and Arthur did as she asked, lip caught in his teeth as he sunk deep into his chair. If it weren’t for the delicate situation, Merlin would have laughed at how much the King resembled a child who had just been caught playing with fire dangerously close to their mother’s favourite rug. Or had that just been Merlin?

“Arthur, I know how you must feel. But know that I love only you.”

“I know that.” Arthur sucked in a sharp breath and sat back up, rocking the fork back and forth between finger and thumb. “I’m not… angry.”

Merlin shot him a dubious look.

“Well, I guess-” A laugh escaped his chest before he could capture it completely, and he slapped a fist over his lips, trying to push the hilarity back down. “I’m fully aware that this was before you and I began to see each other as we do now, so you were absolutely within your rights to be interested in some…” he eyed Merlin, then waved dismissively, “whatever, but-”

Merlin threw his hands up with an exasperated gasp and placed the pitcher on the table with a little bit too much force, pointedly ignoring the splashes of wine which sloshed over the edges. Instead, he folded his arms, rolled his neck, and fixed Arthur with that jutted jaw which usually meant he was ready to publicly embarrass him.

“Believe it or not, _my lord_ , the entirety of Albion doesn’t exist around your royal backside.”

“Ex- _cuse_ me?”

“I know, hard to believe, isn’t it?”

Gwen sighed. “Okay, okay. I think we can settle this easily.”

Both combatants looked to her, bristling like wild cats.

She smiled kindly. “Arthur. I love you entirely. You are wonderful, brave, lovely, and very handsome.”

At that, Arthur looked rather pleased with himself.

“And as for Merlin, Arthur, it seems to me as if you should stop giving him such a hard time, my love. Whatever your thoughts on the matter, it is quite obvious that at least half the castle believes otherwise, myself included. Anyone would be lucky to have you, Merlin.”

The servant straightened himself up, raising his head high as he batted his eyelashes, completely and utterly unprepared for such a compliment, with a sunshine grin brightening the room.

“Well.” He made a funny little face. His eyebrows hopped and he cleared his throat. “Thank you, my lady, that’s very kind.”

She inclined her head with a small smile. “It is nothing but the truth, Merlin.”

Unable to tame his grin, Merlin turned it on Arthur, who was massaging his temple with a thumb and looking anywhere but at his manservant. After a few moments, however, Merlin’s gaze-turning-glare proved to be too heavy.

“You’re a good man, Merlin.” Arthur choked out as if the words themselves rubbed the inside of his throat like sandpaper. “Really. And you’re not ugly, not that you’re particularly good-”

“ _Arthur_.” Gwen hushed.

Arthur shook his head at the table. “You’re right, Guinevere. I’m sorry, Merlin.”

Merlin was glad he’d already put the pitcher down. “You’re _sorry_? Well, now there’s a surprise and a half.”

“Hah! I was shocked, that’s all. Not many Kings find out that their wife considered their manservant before them.”

“Arthur…”

“No, Guinevere, I’m not- Gods, I’m not blaming either of you. It’s fine, I swear. In fact, the longer I think about it, the more it seems rather sweet.” He was teasing, definitely, but Merlin could tell - with a fond little squirm of his heart - that there was some truth in there, too.

Scooping the pitcher back up, the grin still not completely gone from his face, Merlin offered Arthur a refill.

“Oh, and Merlin-” The servant stilled when Arthur’s hand came to rest upon his wrist. “You are aware that my jibes are merely jokes, aren’t you? Or else we’re going to need to rethink our entire relationship.”

“Are you saying that I’m not actually ugly, sire?” Merlin asked with a quirk to his lips.

Removing his hand and leaning back, Arthur rolled his eyes. “Really, Mer-lin. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think it’d do you good to listen to the kitchen staff more often. Though not too much, of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ta very much for reading! As always, comments are very much appreciated! I love to hear what you guys have to say, even if it's just screaming incoherently.
> 
> Also, shameless plug, but I've been working in a team on a sci-fi drama podcast called Closing the Book. If that sounds like something you'd be interested in, follow any of the social medias below. First episode due to release on December 9th!  
> Tumblr: @closing-the-book  
> Twitter: @ClosingBook  
> Instagram: @ClosingTheBook  
> Facebook: @Closingthebookpodcast
> 
> Thank you muchly! All the best!  
> \- Zanna


End file.
